Ballet Slippers
by Emullz
Summary: Ginny's happiest memory is receiving a pair of ballet slippers for her sixth birthday from her oldest brother, Bill. I guess I just really like writing about them as a brother/sister thing... for the Popular Song challenge on the HPFC forum


The Patronus Charm. Harry said the name as if it would be so easy, to think of your happiest memory on the spot. He, of all people, was the least likely to have many happy memories, but that was Harry for you. Always full of good.

"Alright, everyone, do you have your memories ready?" I faltered, sifting through my years of Hogwarts and frowning. Moments of laughter with friends and triumph with my house weren't good enough. Yes, I'd been happy, but I had to find a memory at home, because no matter how much I loved Hogwarts, it could never make me as happy as nights in the Burrow as a family.

I thought back to the winter days spent with Ron and Fred and George, and shook my head again. Not school days, I'd been too busy missing my brothers.

I started. My sixth birthday. Of course, it had to be that birthday. It was a hot, muggy August, and I'd rushed downstairs in my frilliest nightgown, deciding that the morning festivities required a certain kind of finery.

There had been three presents on the table that year instead of two, and I remember thinking that it was the best day that I would ever live through, and that three presents on a birthday was unheard of.

I sat down at the table, put my napkin on my lap, and waited for the family to come downstairs. Slowly but surely, Percy emerged, then Dad, then Bill and Charlie, then Ron, and finally Fred and George. Mum appeared out of the kitchen with an enormous vat of bacon and a plate piled high with waffles.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," she said fondly, and I beamed as I forked a waffle onto my plate.

"Hold on, Ginny, there's a surprise," Charlie had said with a grin as Mum reappeared with a pint of vanilla ice cream and handed it to me.

"Give yourself as much as you want and then pass it around the table, honey," Dad said, "to your left, not your right." George let up a cry of outrage as I handed it to my left and into the waiting hands of Dad. Seated second on my righthand side, he seemed to take my choice as a personal insult. It was.

"Only one scoop, the lot of you," Mum warned, brandishing an extra scooper and taking her seat.

I dug into my waffle with abandon, managing to get a brain freeze three times over as I rushed to get at the wrapped bundles sitting just beyond my reach.

"I'm done Mum, presents now?" I set my fork down with a clatter and wiped my face on the back of my hand.

"My God, Ginny, can't you just wait up for the rest of us? It's not enough you get extra, you want them _now_." Fred wrinkled his nose at me and turned back to his waffle.

My eyes filled with tears and I looked at my plate and the remnants of the ice cream.

"Shut your fat ugly mouth, would you?" Bill said angrily. "It's her birthday and you've gone and made her cry!"

I blinked rapidly and looked up from my plate. Fred looked sheepish. "I'm not crying," I protested, blinking some more. "I'm not," I said stubbornly as Ron looked at me curiously.

Percy led the table in some mindless prattle about how Second Year was bound to be better than First Year as the rest of the table finished up their breakfast. I watched the presents the whole time, as if I could open them with my mind.

"Okay, Ginny, don't hurt yourself," Dad said, chuckling, as he handed me the first parcel. I tore into it, revealing a pink ceramic piggy bank. I looked at it in wonder and shook it, marveling at the tinkle inside.

"There's two knuts in it, for spending," Mum said, clearly loving the wide smile on my face.

"Next, next," I chanted as the package was handed down the table into my waiting hands. I tore into this one with the same fervor, and my efforts revealed a length of red fabric. Although it was August, I flung it around my neck and grinned, reaching for the next present.

"This one," Bill said, placing it in my hands, "is from me."

I looked up at him and smiled, ripping the paper off delicately this time. Careful, I thought, this present is from Bill.

When the last bit of paper came off, I gasped, and then began to pull off my socks immediately.

It was two pink, satin, worn out old pair of ballet slippers. I'd fallen in love.

"Oh, _Bill_," Mum said, getting teary eyed. I attempted to drag them onto my tiny little feet and looked on the table.

Stuffing the toes with the napkins I had grabbed seemed to work in fitting the shoes to my feet, and as I looked down at my nightgown and shoes, I giggled.

I lifted my arms up over my head, and spun around, almost falling over. Bill caught me, set me on my feet, and then swung me up around again.

The rest of my brothers cleared off and cleaned up their dishes and went outside to play with the gnomes or ride of broomsticks, but Bill and I stayed in the kitchen, dancing.

I danced in my ballet shoes and he in his bare feet, me in my scarlet scarf and he in his ratty old shirt, and as I raised my wand I thought of the family around the table and the ice cream in Dad's hands and the way fifteen year old Bill looked to a six year old Ginny in ballet shoes, standing on a teenage boy's feet.

And when I said Expecto Patronum, I wasn't at all surprised that a horse came galloping out of my wand.

It pranced happily around the whole room, dancing like I did in my kitchen when I was barely six.

"Well done, Ginny!" Harry said happily, striding over to where I watched the colt dance in awe. "What did you think of?"

"Home," I said simply. "And a pair of shoes."


End file.
